Nighthawk
by JuncoBirds
Summary: Twenty years after Eragon leaves Alagaësia, dragon eggs are being redistributed to people in order to find young riders. In one small town, a dark force lurks unbeknownst to the dragon riders and villagers... (one-shot)


Nighthawk

A short story based on the Inheritance Cycle. Copyright belongs to Christopher Paolini. This story has been put up online no where else but here, so if you see it elsewhere, please let me know.

Events take place twenty years after Eragon leaves Alagaësia.

Reviews and critiques are always welcome. Uploaded: 9/15/2018

 **MATURE CONTENT: graphic imagery.**

~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Bangs and clatter of hefty ceramic mugs and plates fill the spaces between bellowing spouts of banter. Men and women hug, pat each other on the back and dance, hee-hawing with exhaustion and laughter when they leave the dance and return to their seats. With a loose grip, I hold my own mug in my lap, letting the warmth of it comfort my legs and hands. Tessa and my brother, Ruak, sit to my left, conversing in a shout to overcome the noise of the party.

Our party boy, Dale, sits atop the bar counter, looking what my brother calls 'being the cock in the chicken coop,' or as my father puts simply, 'he's _cocky'._ On his shoulder a corn-husk sized dragon clutches to his shoulder-pad. It looks around with wide eyes, turning to watch the people while fluttering its translucent wings in the same mannerism a fox freezes and darts to and from when spotted by torchlight. Dale talks with some of the bigger boys who gaggle around him.

In the corner of the tavern, sit three dragon riders donning riding outfits and wool cloaks for the cold. The female of the group has a drink at the table she hasn't touched since Master Huey put it there (I've been watching). And the male has kept his head up by using his elbow propped up against the table, his hand cradling his chin and braided beard. The other rider, a dwarf, sits with his arms across his chest and nose just peering over the tabletop. They don't talk, nor do they appear inclined to do so.

Ajah, Rulu and Tarlo run around the dance floor screaming. I would go play with them but Rulu bit me yesterday when I tried to play tag with him, so I stay seated. My fingers wiggle around my mug. I don't like black tea, it's too tart.

Chella and Thimia scoot over the bench on my right and take a seat. Thimia ruffles my hair and greets me, "Hey little Sparrow!" She announces louder to the other big kids, "Hey! You two up for a dance in a minute?"

My brother dismisses her with a wave of a hand, "nah. Not much to dance for."

Chella butts in, "maybe after Dale's gone?"

"That'd be something to celebrate." Murmurs of agreement follow.

"So, do you plan on sittin' her' the whole night?"

"Yeh."

"Aye. Pine sap stuck my ass to th' chair. Couldn't get up even if I wanted to."

"Probably better that way. Guess you'll hav' to leave yer britches here fer the night."

"Only if you do th' same."

A brief staring match ensures between my brother and Thimia which ends with Thimia snorting and declaring, "if I were dumb enough to scratch my bum on a tree, I guess I would. But I guess I'm a little smarter than the likes of you."

"Aye." My brother responds simply, his eyes rather intently fixed on Thimia.

Thimia seems to be glaring at my brother from under her dark eyebrows, so I reach up and pull on his sleeve. He looks down, face softening, and I remind him, "she'll beat you up if you make her mad."

The big girls seem to think this to be funny and buckle over in laughter. It's not funny. I've seen them beat him up; he doesn't stand a chance one versus three.

After they calm down a bit, Chella peaks out from behind Thimia and asks, "What'chu been up to, Sparrow? Don't you wanna go play with Meela and the girls?"

"No," I say as I bow my head, looking at the tea, "I want the dragon lady to bring me the eggs so I can pet them too."

"You're too little, Sparrow. Next year, when 'yer older."

"But I am old! What if I get too old when they come back? Wha 'if they won' let me pet them?"

"That won't happen, I'm sure they'll let you pet them next year."

"They could give me a small egg- like Dale's."

"Tell that to his face," Thimia shout-mutters, glancing over the bar counter, shadows over her eyes. Again, the table erupts into laughs, more hushed than before. My brother ruffles my head. They go back to talking about big kid stuff: more work with Dale being gone ' _oh he neer did anything anyway_ ' yadda-yadda.

The dragon lady still hasn't moved. She has her eyes casually on Dale. The dwarf next to her inspects his fingernails with lidded eyes. Earlier today when they brought in the dragon eggs, all the big kids got to go pet them except for me and Meela. They said we're too small. I buff up my chest with a big breath; I'm not small, they're just too big.

The table bounces and Astirr slams his being into the end of the table across from me. My tea sloshes but doesn't escape the cup. Astirr's braids swing for a moment and he lets out a huff of air, eyes whirling, "You guys wouldn't _believe_ what just happened."

Dale mutters something lost to the noise of the tavern. Astirr doesn't seem to notice the side-looks and clenched jaws of the other big kids, instead standing up straight and extending a palm out to the big kids, fingers spread wide. The big kids lean forward, fingers suddenly on the table and standing up with a jerking motion that rocks the bench and table apart. The tea remains safe in my mug and I clench my fists, ready for more bouncing. I exclaim a sharp " _Hey!_ " but they don't hear.

"Where'd you get that?" Thimia bites, voice sharp. I look back up, unable to see what Astirr holds.

Astirr pockets whatever he's holding and leans back, "some lady said she'd lost some belongings. Said she needed some help. Gave me this and told me to bring back some of the kids to come out and help 'er out. Said she needed small fingers and sharp eyes. Dunno wha' she wants, but I'ma supposing there's more where 'iss came from." He chews around the inside of his mouth and looks around, bright-eyed.

"Who?" Chella asks, head titled, as my brother announces: "I'm in".

The big kids start jostling around and I squeeze my hands to keep the tea in its mug. They all lean over the table at once, hissing to once another in quick, sharp remakes. My brother's hand touches my back and stays there softly.

He turns to me, eyes bright and wide, "let's go." He reaches out and I pass along my mug to him, which he places on the table for me.

"Ruak!" Thimia snarls in the same way mommy does when daddy says a bad word. He waves her off before offering me his hand. With careful steps, I follow along behind him, the shouting and cawing of the party growing louder as we cross the middle of the tavern. Faintly, I hear Dale's tiny dragon let out a mighty squeak. A clamoring uproar goes up and I cover one of my ears with my free hand.

We break out into the night, Thimia's wining coming with it, "… you don't even know who this is!"

My brother turns around, walking backwards, legs bouncing as if he's about to bound off. "But the _gold,_ Thimia. _Gold._ " I hold his hand tighter and run to keep up with him.

 _Gold._ A word only ever spoken in the highest of regards. Like a magic spell that sends away the hunger and darkness. I've never seen it before, but my brother says it looks a lot like a copper-piece, except shinier.

When we stop, we're in the narrow alley between Ian's butcher shop and Gerald's tanning shop. Chella and Tessa right behind us, with Thimia practically in Ruak's face whisper-screaming about strangers and kidnappers. My brother just looks at her with a big grin; I can't grin like that. My front toothy just fell out and I'd look silly. Thimia goes on, chaotic energy growing over my head, "you know bandits have been passing through here more often! They're after the little ones for money! Iv' y' were to evr' use that head of yours, we'd be in less than half the trouble we bargain for- yet we've got to follow your sweaty ass around and prance about for some lil' moth-eyed dream you have." She flails her arms, "can we a' least warn someone before we prattle off into the night! The Spine-".

Tessa mutters, "we should at least go meet this 'strange woman'. For all we know, it could just be a rich idiot." She moves her hands to raise the knife at her belt, then sheaths it a moment later. Thimia eyes Tessa and backs down a bit, her mood smoothing as the two females make eye contact and linger on staring at each other.

"Yer still an idiot though," Thimia mutters to my brother, crossing her arms across her chest, "between you and Astirr, I'm surprised the lot of us aren't dead yet." Raising a finger, she insists, "if there's even a wink of somethin' fishy going on, we turn back and tell the folks a' the tavern, y'hear?"

My brother nods. He whispers to no one in particular, "we could buy new seeds with that money." The other two grow still, their faces, though streaked with grime and lack of sleep, look optimistic.

The night air reaches me and I'm glad I have my long-sleeve shirt on. My arms get cold where the fabric runs through loose strands and broken fibers. Above us, the stars flicker, and the trees shake their branches. In the nearby woods, I can hear the night-noises of the Spine monsters, but the big kids are here, so the monsters won't be out right now. Sometimes, when I look out at night, I can see them prowling around in the shadows.

Down the street, the tavern glows brightly and I can still hear the bellowing laughs of some of the adults. Light pools out, silhouetted by Astirr and a hoard of other kids. They meander toward us, the light dying behind them as the door swings shut. I can see the backs of the adults inside. They don't seem to be joining us. It must just be playtime for the kids.

My brother shakes my hand a little and whispers, "stop that!" I realize my thumb has hooked itself into my mouth. I take it out and wipe it down my shirt, smiling at my brother. He beams down at me before distractedly watching the approaching group.

Astirr herds Ajah, Rulu, Tarlo, Meela and the triplets towards us, making exaggerated hushing noises. When the groups spots us, they start running, pursued at a jog by Astirr, who twists to see the tavern, smiling all the while.

Meela bounds into me, wiggling, "we're going on an adventure!" She squeals.

"Me too," I nod.

She grabs my hand as the group moves and starts to walk away from town, my brother letting go of me to walk between the big girls. Ajah falls in beside me with Rulu and they bicker to me about how Nanny kept trying to scare them away from the adult table with scary faces. Faces don't scare Ajah, and he makes some to show us that she could only make _stupid_ faces. Tarlo 'ewws' when Ajah sticks out his tongue and spits at us, so we chase Tarlo around spitting. Tarlo runs with his hands over his ears screaming "I can't hear you! I can't hear you." When we catch up to him, we let him go again after blowing on his face so we can keep chasing him. The big kids and the triplets don't join in.

Rulu stops us, gabbing hold of Ajah's shirt and pointing up, "the Spine!"

We've gone out of the town and have made it to the entryway to the hunting trails. The forest-noises buzz at my ears and I can feel the trees and mountains looming over us, about to pounce. Monsters live there. Sometimes the monsters eat people or hide in closets or under beds so they can snatch people up and take them away. Uncle Dev got killed by a monster when I was little; that's why I always check under my bed before going to sleep.

Ajah pushed Rulu's hand away, teasing: "are you scared?"

Rulu insists: "No. My dad goes hunting there." Rulu talks about his dad a lot. All I know is that he hunts big things with a bow no one else can lift.

Tarlo reaches in to butt-in, but we turn away at fingers snapping for our attention. Thimia looks back at us and hisses, "c'mon, we're gonna meet the lady."

"Who?" Ajah insists at yell-level, smirking.

I inform him; "she has gold for us."

"She does?" Ajah puts his finger on his chin and peers upward, posing, "Well I want some!" and runs toward the big kids, stomping loudly. We follow more quietly, and once we reach the slow-moving big-kids, we come to a walk. What if the stranger-lady wants to kid-nap us? Or she could be a monster wearing a human cloak to fool us.

I would grab Ruak's hand, but I don't want Meela to think I'm a wuss. Looking around Tessa, I see two horses and a wagon with three people milling around. They don't have a fire lit. I grab Meela's hand and she holds mine back. Chella slows and offers her hand to Meela's free hand, and she accepts it. We approach the strangers without talking, even Ajah looks instead of speaking. Beyond the strangers, where normally meadow spreads, large objects loom; probably wagons.

Astirr leads the way, back strait and arms swinging. He looks over his shoulder at us, no longer smiling. His lips look thin and through the dark I can just see his eyes darting to each one of us. His thoughts ring out clear as if he spoke them aloud: 'what if the kids get hurt? I should not have brought them'. He turns back and on the next swing of his arms touches his him where a small knife hangs on his belt.

One of the strangers stands and begins walking towards us with crisp strides, a hood shadowing their features, and cloaks obscuring their figure. A cape swings behind them. We stop and form a small line behind the big kids to watch. In the dark, the shapes of the stranger's companions seem to have stopped moving and appear to be watching us, but I can't tell from this distance.

The figure stops about three meters in front of us and she asks, "have you come to help us?" Her voice pleading and sweet, smooth, like someone from a river-town.

Ruak answers, "yes, we heard you have gold." He stares at her pointedly, hands on hips and chest puffed out.

"Yes…" she clears her throat and talks quickly, "we need help, and we'll pay you for your efforts." Ruak gives a quick nod and she continues, "Some people have taken our goods from us, but if we were to confront them, they could kill us. You see, we were supposed to be transporting some eggs for queen Nasuada when some dragon riders stole them and claimed them as their own." The big kids share glances. "I know it sounds strange but hear me out!" She pleads, fingers entwined before her chest. The big kids share several sideways glances, nodding for the woman to continue.

"The dragon eggs were to be taken from town to town under the guardianship of the queen's guards- us- but three dragon riders stopped and intercepted us, claiming they were to transport the eggs. We asked for clarifications and paperwork, but they only kept insisting. And we only handed over the eggs after they drew their swords and threatened us with their lives.

"When we got to Daret, the general there said there was no paperwork change." She lifts her head a bit higher and I can see a glimmer of her eyes, boring into us with a yearning, "we think the riders have abandoned Eragon and are stealing new riders."

A collective sigh and muttering comes from the big kids, triplets included. They back up and we follow suit, forming a small huddle in which the big kids spend several hushed moments whispering to each other. The stranger waits in tree-like stillness as if she were not even there. Chella steps forward from the group, "we'll help you. How can we help?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." The stranger says, bowing low. She stands and explains, her form more free and relaxed, "The dragon eggs are being held behind the Inn by the West side of town. Sneak in and take them- the guards wouldn't bother a bunch of curious kids. We'll ride in behind you and meet you inside the barn by the river."

Thimia nods, "th' winter shed. We store grain and hay ther'. It'll be empty."

The big kids nod. Astirr swallows and asks tentatively, "how do we know you're not lying?" His question bringing an uncomfortable silence to the group as the females glare at him.

The woman smiles, her teeth glimmering in the shadows. She unclasps her cloak and spreads the edges of the fabric apart to show a white uniform underneath, bearing the crest of Uru'baen. A uniform of the queen. I've only seen it once. They're the good guys.

She quickly re-hides her uniform, explaining, "it's easier to hide in darkness this way."

Astirr nods slowly and Ruak places his hands on his hips, "and the gold?"

"Three gold for each dragon egg, and two more for keeping your mouths shut. Wouldn't want anyone important to hear of this."

Satisfied, the big kids make another quick huddle, whispering to each other. They emerge and Thimia addresses the stranger, "we'll meet you in the storage shed. Won't be long." She then turns and addresses us, "let's go."

We move out quickly, my brother taking the lead. He pats Astirr on the back and the boy turns, face a full, toothy, grin. They're happy. And Astirr's usually the one to mess everything up. Good for him.

~o0o~o0o~

We file in one-by one through Marv's garden gate to circle around to the back of his mother's inn. Ajah giggles and Rulu forcefully covers Ajah's mouth, which causes a brief skirmish between the two, stopped by an icy "hush!" from Tessa, who glares down at us.

We round the back of the garden, Ruak leading me by his hand. He stop with such rigidness, I hold my breath to stand even stiller. Three large, _large,_ dragons lay around Marv's shed, their bodies curled like cats. They breath deeply, purring in their sleep with their scaly hides rising and falling slightly in the moonlight. They're bigger than my house. The spines on their backs and the tips of their wings stretch up higher than any chimney in town, and each clawed paw larger than my whole being. My breath comes out in a rush.

We're going to sneak past them. They're puppy-guarding the eggs. Ruak explained to us the plan on the way here. We need to steal the goods and deliver them to the nice strangers for a prize. Adults can't do the job 'cause they're too clumsy.

Astirr pushes forward and looks at the dragons with a sweeping glance, tentatively walking forward. He moves swiftly after surveying the garden and half-crouches as he creeps around some blue dragon's foreleg. He vanishes from sight. And not a moment later, a hand pops us and gives us a wave, the thick neck of the dragon blocking out the rest of his body.

Ruak picks me up under my arms and I hold onto his bicep, eyeing the largest of the dragons, a pale yellow, spikey fellow. It's the furthest one away. We loop around the blue dragon and can see the entrance to the shed, silhouetted by Astirr, looking away from us. Ruak takes a big step over the barbed end of a green tail and puts me down. He pushes me forward as he lowers me to the ground and I run over into the shed, dodging Astirr, who stands with his hands on hips beyond the doorway.

Spooks might be hiding in the shadows, so I stand very still and peer around, quickly joined by Rulu and Tarlo. Tarlo shivers a little. The beams atop the shed waver and little clicks and rustles shift above our heads. Hay piles, nearly as tall as the roof form cavities and the sticks that poke out shiver and squeak with the scurrying of mice. And, finally, not three strides before us, lie several smooth and nearly glowing eggs, arranged in a circle and nestled with hay like a giant bird nest.

"Go grab one, littl' ones," Thimia whispers, her voice dampened by the hay. Rulu leads us in and we place our feet to not step on any of the egg babies. I find a pretty pink egg and wrap my arms around it to heave it up, its shell cool under my touch, like stones from the bottom of a river; I can even feel it flowing inside. Different from a chicken egg: not for eating.

Astirr grumbles my name softly and he puts his hand on my shoulder. He extends a palm with a smooth black egg balanced in his palm. "Hold her closely." He instructs, motioning for me to take the egg. I do and cradle the little unhatched baby in both hands. Astirr steps by me and grabs the pink hand in one fell swoop, snatching another with his other arm at the same time. I spy my brother by the entrance, watching with his nose in the air, observing Astirr like he does our dog: waiting for him to start barking.

With unexpected speed, I find the ground devoid of eggs and myself surrounded by the big kids, who've huddled us together between them. We make for the door, moving slower than when we entered. I make sure to hold the egg close to my chest. I can't see the big dragons, but I feel their presence, the breeze blocked by their bodies and light reflecting sideways into the air. Thimia lifts me up and heaves me over the spikey tail, nearly as tall as my chest. We hurry once again. The egg calls out to the bigger dragons, its smooth shell pushing against my fingers. It wants its mommy. I keep going.

Our pace accelerates to a run beyond the fence. Astirr, in front of me, looks back, his eyes whirling and face pale. Like a doe running from a huntsman. He glances down at me in such a way that make the puppy-guarding dragons and 'mystery woman' less like a game and more like the monsters in the spire. We should be afraid. But my heart races and I'm ready to run to get our gold and maybe win a hug from Ruak. Astirr's just an upside-down goose and probably doesn't know how to play the game right.

~o0o~o0o~

The winter shed looks haunting. Boogeymen hide there in the winter when the woods get too cold for them. Meela and I stop before the side door, hesitating. She has a bigger egg than mine and needs to wrap her arms around it. She pants a little. All but Astirr and us have already entered. He whispers to us, "yeah? Ready?" His voice like the wind.

Meela looks at me and nods, "yup".

In a singular stride, Astirr passes us and snaps his head in a gesture to go into the barn. And in that moment my fingers rim a crack in the egg. I've broken it. _I've broken it._

I don't look down, knowing Astirr will see. And as Meela passes me, I hug the egg closer and press the crack shut so the insides won't come falling out.

Astirr watches Meela enter and looks down at me with his head tilted, glancing into the barn. "You comin'?"

"I want Ruak."

Astirr twists his lips, eyebrows raising. He nods, smiling with a kindred softness framing his face and whispers, "I'll go get him." He turns and vanishes. I keep out of sight of the doorway, waiting for the Boogeyman to frighten everyone out. Ruak can fight off the boogeyman, he says so. He'll be safe.

I feel the egg quiver as it starts to fall apart and I grasp it tighter, breathing big like Ruak tells me to do when I get upset. I've broken it. Brother will give me _the long look_ and sigh, but it's okay, he'll be able to fix it. My vision wavers and I feel tears coming down my cheeks. We can hide the eggs in our treehouse and fix it. We'll fix it. I'll get gold for my brother.

Brother will fix it. I'll make brother proud. I carried the egg. I broke the egg, but I'll be okay. Big breaths.

I hunch up against the side of the barn, making sure to hide myself behind a scraggily tree in case Astirr comes back out. He can't see the egg. He'd do something dumb and break it more. So, I hunch myself around the shattering shell and shuffle my feet, counting the beetles in the shifting sand. My hands burns with a fire rivaling a hot ember on the palm of my hands, and when my hand starts to shake, the shell bits fall to the ground, so I squeeze even tighter and hope that the baby stays inside enough to be able to survive.

A much longer time than needed for my brother to come back passes and I consider getting up and going inside, but don't. Consoling myself with what brother and I will do when he comes out: we'll rope it back together. No one will notice. Like the rafter in the barn when-

-Footsteps disturb the earth and I turn, staring up at some unknown stranger with broad shoulders and knotted muscles for a chest. He pokes his head around, hair plastered to his head in a sweaty heap and moist air breaking from his nose, visible in the starlight. He scans back and forth, then pops his head back indoors, a gruff and hushed voice calling out: "all clear!"

He'll have his back turned. In a single hop, I bound up, taking a moment to wrap the remaining egg into my shirt, bundling up the fabric so that the wind nips at my belly button. I creep to the door, peeping my head around the corner and darting in when I can't see anyone immediately. Even though it's dark, I know that the boogyman isn't here, because I'm by the door and monsters can't get you by doors. I even know where I am, directly next to three hay bales and an oak pillar that reaches up to the roof. The hay's musk drowns out some of the stagnant air.

It's particularly stale tonight.

A horse neighs; the strangers must've brought their horses inside.

"You got 'em all?" a stranger asks. It's still to dark to see.

"Yeh." Gruff, silent. A voice muffled by more than just hay.

"Less mov' en ow' 'den". A female, quickly, her words a single breath so fast I don't understand her.

"Doors." A light command ordered by someone further away.

"Ever'body inside first." Shuffling ensues and wood creaks. Horses stomp their hooves and chains dingle lightly. Too many horses. More horses than the town owns. I can smell their musk and hear their breathing.

"Everything you got, Arc. They'll be after you." The female stranger we spoke to earlier, a commanding deepness to her tone.

"Aye." A muted reply, heartless.

The doors rumble open, the wood dragging on the dirt and rock, light pooling in. In a mad fury, a black horse neighs and screams in frightened rage, bolting out with a black rider wearing a shadowy coat; their silhouette crisp with the moon before them. Another carriage follows suit, then a third, the horses snorting and thundering to speed. Two lithe people vault from the entrance onto the back of the third wagon, their bodies swinging off the edge precariously. Two more horses follow, coming to speed more slowly than the others. In their wake, a normally barren barn greets me, the moonlight illuminating a pile crimson in streaks and streams of heaping mass.

A singular kneeling figure moves his head toward me, his head moving while his body remains still, facing the entrance. His eyes glisten and he stare into me, arms sagging and body unnervingly still. A croaked noise exits from his mouth, "Sparrow…". He blinks, swaying. In sullen silence, his body falls forward and crashed to the ground with hardly a thud. The stack behind him towers and oozes. Not even a twitch comes from the mass, yet I can feel its weight pressing into the dirt and the ever-coming decay it promises, the faintest hints of pee in the air.

Chella's lifeless screaming face looks at me from a upside down head on a corkscrew body. Such a mass of limbs and fabric defines the mound I can't make out their forms. Ajah's mop of hair and head stands atop a spike, hair clinging to the spear tip, crawling up like a vine; his head turned away from me, but I can feel Ajah's open mouth and a dull screaming just behind me as he calls for help in a long, soggy moan.

The silence stretches on with a burning, consuming fire for life.

~o0o~o0o~

A wood-splintering screech shatters the image and a thundering of air and light echo the sky. I don't know where I am, but I'm running with trees before me and heated screams behind me.

"RULU!" A mother's voice with tears in her throat.

"TESSA!" Her father cries.

Red light erupts across the sky and the air ripples in powerful strides. A towering grove of trees hangs over a path- the treehouse. Brother always came whenever I ran to the treehouse. He'll come and talk to me. He'll come (twisted heads). He'll come (eyes that don't see). He'll come (dead _. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead_ ).

We'll fix it; I'll make Ruak proud.

Behind me, a dragon roars with such force that the ground quakes.


End file.
